


Silver

by donttalktothewolf



Series: Carina [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, murder baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28328715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donttalktothewolf/pseuds/donttalktothewolf
Summary: Of silver and stars.
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Carina [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074605
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Silver

**Author's Note:**

> \- I told myself I wouldn’t do this, that I would not write Christmas-related fic... Well, here goes my principles. lmao

_“In reaction and recoil,_ _  
__Makes flame to freeze and ice to boil;_ _  
__Forging, through swart arms of Offence,_ _  
__The silver seat of Innocence.”_  
\- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Spiritual Laws (poem)

In the lit fireplace, the wood crackled gently. The flames flickering while warm light spread through the ample room. Outside snow fell quietly, and the moonlight reflecting in ice and cold covered the world in tones of silver and glass. 

Inside, the scents of nutmeg and cinnamon still lingered from a late dinner, and the melody of Mozart’s _Wiegenlied_ poured softly from a piano in the corner, interrupted only by the curious little fingers of the eleven-month-old baby resting on her father’s lap.

Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, Hannibal Lecter only smiled at the disruption. Dissonant notes that otherwise caused by anyone else would have been unforgivable. He hummed along with the melody, his voice a low baritone reciting in a perfect German the lyrics of an old lullaby.

_Schlafe, mein Prinzessin, schlaf ein,  
_ _Schäfchen ruhn und Vögelein,  
_ _Garten und Wiese verstummt,  
_ _auch nicht ein Bienchen mehr summt,  
_ _Luna mit silbernem Schein  
_ _gucket zum Fenster herein,  
_ _schlafe bei silbernem Schein,  
_ _schlafe, mein Prinzessin, schlaf ein,  
_ _schlaf ein, schlaf ein!_

But sleep wasn’t on the little girl’s immediate plans, and bringing her little star-shaped hands to her father’s face, she demanded his attention. “Pa-pa?” Still discovering her words, they sounded vacillant, unique, and curious. _“Pa-pa?”_

“Yes, Carina?” He asked, and she smiled, pink gums and two white lower incisors. He smiled too, kissed the top of her head. The scent of her shampoo mingled with the sweet smells in the room. She giggled, eyes sparkling so blue as her mother’s. She looked nothing like Mischa.

“Pa-pa?”

“All right,” Hannibal said, his hands finally leaving the ivory keys. The music still resonated for some moments before disappearing, and the only sound was their breathing and the unpredictable flicker of the fire. 

Hannibal raised from the bench. It was almost a choreographed dance, every step practiced to perfection since she was born, and now he would show her the stars. But tonight, instead, he walked to the small pine tree near the fireplace and sitting on the wool carpet, grabbed a small box.

“I had agreed to only give you this tomorrow.” He said and opened the box. Over dark velvet, a small silver star caught the light in the room shining with memories. Once, that silver had belonged to another little girl bracelet, and now transformed it would finally rearrange entropy. Somewhere in the universe, the porcelain of shattered teacups was gathering, shards of life glued together by beautiful silver veins of new beginnings. Her father brought the delicate chain out of the box and closed it around her neck. “But perhaps it is already late enough to be early.” The baby gurgled, staring at the little pendant held tight between her fingers. “What do you think?”

“I think you two should be in bed,” Bedelia said from the threshold, dressed in silk and gold, hair falling softly in her shoulders. And Hannibal thought of Genesis and the creation of light. He thought of Dante and the behold of hearts. And he thought of his heart still whole but incandescent as iron.

Hannibal smiled, and in his arms, the baby called for her. Their vision of sun, moon, and stars that would never bow at their feet, but offered instead almost selfless the hold of the universe. “ _Ma-ma_?” 

They sat together, Bedelia’s head resting in his shoulder and their daughter between them. The little star held in her baby fingers reflected the flames glowing warm while her mother read aloud the inscription written on the back in her father’s neat handwriting. 

It would be years, though not too many, till their daughter would be able to read the words for herself. But when she did, they would tell her everything she needed to know.

~

_To my little star,_   
_may you always shine brighter in the dark._   
_Love,_   
_Papa_

***

**Author's Note:**

> \- In Hannibal Rising, Hannibal threw Mischa’s silver bracelet at Petras Kolnas before he killed him. But I like to think he would keep it, it was the last thing he had from his sister, and he should be allowed to keep it.  
> \- I am not much of a Christmas kind of girl, but Murder Baby really does stupid things to my brain, so... Anyway, Happy Holidays, dear teacups. Hope you’re safe. <3


End file.
